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Post by Wolfie on Mar 20, 2012 20:53:38 GMT -5
 Morrigan had been alone for four years. That daunting solitude would seem like mental suicide, a sure way to go insane due to lack of socialization. But for the ink black mare, it was the only world she found comfort in. The first two years of her life she was chased by many a horse, wanting to kill her simply because her mother was a murderer. Of course everyone now had long since forgotten about such tales of a dangerous, lethal old arabian mare, perhaps thinking she had died. So Morrigan, in all truth, could show her face once again without worry - but she had found solace in the depth of Terra Scure. Not to say she had been completely unbothered, but she often ran off any who dared even look her way, with a healthy dose of sarcasm and bitter hatred for her on species.
She more or less ambled through the snow, lowering her maw to grab a snip of grass poking from the white. She was headed no where in particular, but then again, she never really was headed anywhere.
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Post by Vel on Apr 10, 2012 16:53:10 GMT -5
The large stallion slowly made his way through the shadowy lands known as Terra Scure. His feathered feet were dragging across the ground as he placed them in the powdery layer of snow with a soft 'thump'. Each step he took seemed to be a burden for the ebony based brute. Time and time again he wandered around Scure in search of mares to harass or stallions to pick fights with. That was getting old. He was getting older. He had no time for foolish things like that anymore. Well he did, but they just were not as fun as they used to be. He used to live for tormenting weak stallions and showing mares their rightful place under him. Not anymore.
Jigsaw raised his large head and perked his ears as he saw a dark shape in the distance. A mare. Now if he were his old self, he would have gone over to her, scared her, tormented her, and left her emotionally broken without a care in the world. He just did not have the desire to do so anymore. Instead he just continued in her direction with his head held in a neutral position. Something about this mare almost seem familiar. Had he come across her before? He had met so many mares in his life that he could not keep them straight anymore. He would continue to approach her, not saying a word. If she wanted something to do with him, so be it. If not, he would continue on his way. The Jigsaw that had once been no longer was.
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